


You Passed It

by hawkywithshawzy



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 1988, Chicago Blackhawks, Fluff, I was really emo about the win tonight, M/M, This is literally all fluff, enjoy, so this is what happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9376772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkywithshawzy/pseuds/hawkywithshawzy
Summary: “You passed it.”Jonny wasn’t even through the door when Pat had bombarded him.





	

“You passed it.”

Jonny wasn’t even through the door when Pat had bombarded him.

“What?” he said, dropping his bag on the floor and finding his way into the bathroom to wash his face. He felt dirty; that was one of the hardest, grittiest games he’s ever played in. 

“You didn’t take the empty netter. You passed it to Kero,” Pat said, standing in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest. “You could’ve easily taken it,” he said.

“Yeah, I could’ve,” Jonny said, shutting the water off and wiping his face dry with a towel. He wound his way around Pat in the doorway, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and untie his shoes. He looked tired, beaten and like he hadn’t slept soundly in weeks. He let out a long sigh, Pat just looking at him and his fingers fumbled to grab the laces.

“Here, I got em. Let me do it,” he said softly, crouching down to untie his shoes for him. Jonny just let him, his hands coming up to rest in his lap, gaze cast downward the whole time. They’d won, 6-4, in a hard fought comeback. Admittedly, they shouldn’t have had to come back at all, because the Avalanche were the worst team in the standings, but everyone was off for the first forty minutes. It wasn’t just him, it was everyone. But Jonny was Jonny, taking the blame for everyone and just, sulking. Sulking all sad and pouty and looking for improvements. Normally he’d be on Pat’s ass post-game, riding him on what he could do better and what he needed to fix. It was good, hearing the break down, but tonight he was quiet - a silence he didn’t know how to fill.

He continued to take his socks off next, undoing his belt and pulling his dress pants down, and unbuttoning his shirt until he was just sitting in his boxers, still not saying anything. Pat moved to pull the blankets back, his own room forgotten on the other side of the adjoining door. The bed was cold, and Jonny stayed staring at his lap while Pat undressed. Tugging him backwards, he led Jonny up to the pillows, snuggling him deep under the covers. Jonny’s arms snaked around Pat’s shoulders, pulling him in close to let Pat rest his cheek against his chest. His breaths were even and slow, body warm from the layers of clothes he was stuck in. Pat hugged him close while one of Jonny’s hands found themselves tangled in Pat’s damp curls. He let the moment stay there, trying to will it to freeze in time. He didn’t want to forget the way Jonny smelled of Dove soap, the way his body seemed to be the perfect temperature, despite the cold weather outside. He wanted to hear Jonny’s deep breaths and let them lull him to sleep, but he pushed on, needing to know what was going on in that brain of his.

“C’mon. You know you can talk to me Jonny, what’s goin’ on with you?” he asked, quietly, afraid he’ll shatter the tension in the room.

Jonny was quiet for a moment, his hands still working at Pat’s curls. “I…I’m not me, Pat. I’m not scoring. I’m not making chances. I’m not working hard enough. I didn’t deserve that empty netter, that not how I want to score goals, easy and just given to me. I’m not…I’m just not clicking. Anywhere. With anyone,” he said, words spilling out a mile a minute. “What if…what if I’ve lost it, Pat? What if I’m not gonna get better, what if I’m not gonna score more than seven goals in a season? I’m just…really frustrated. Really frustrated, man,” he said, voice cracking at the end. He just wanted to be himself again. 

Pat’s heart was aching for him, wanting to do whatever it took for Jonny to feel better about himself and his ability. It was the worst thing to see. 

“Jonny, Jon, look at me, babe,” he said, willing Jonny to make eye contact with him. He was sitting up on Jonny’s chest, searching his eyes for some hint that the Jonny he knows so well is still in there, searching for a way out.

Jonny finally made eye contact, his chocolatey brown eyes looking sadder and sadder by the day, the load of carrying his team’s burdens weighing heavy on his soul.

“You didn’t lose it, Jonny. You won’t. I know you won’t. You’re out there, every day, working the hardest I’ve ever seen anyone work. You’re the thing that keeps me going everyday, man, you make me better just by being YOU. Don’t you get that? You inspire the whole damn room, man. You’re Vinnie’s idol, you see the way that kid looks at you? You not scoring doesn’t change that. You’re the guy on the other end of the play, setting it up, making it happen. You’re SO important to this team, Jon. You’re the leader. And you lead better than I’ve ever seen anyone lead, okay? You hearin’ me?” Pat said, tears welling up in his eyes. Jonny made him more emotional than anyone, the asshole.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Are you crying?” he asked, hand cradling the side of his face, wiping the tears away with his thumb. “You shouldn’t be the one crying. If anyone it should be me,” he said, chuckling softly.

“I just…I care about you man. I care about you, and I want you to do well, and I want you to love the sport the love the way you know how, and I just don’t know what I can do to help you do that,” Pat said, laying back down on Jonny’s chest to avoid the puppy dog look Jonny was sure to give him, one full of feelings and sympathy and love, and he was just too emotional for that.

“This is good,” Jonny said, pausing. “You, just laying with me, hearing another heartbeat, that’s enough, buddy. Thank you,” he said, placing a kiss on his forehead, moving to get under the covers and shifting to turn the bedside light off.

“Tomorrow is a new day. Plus, our dads were bonding, we have to be prepared for the stories they’re sure to tell at breakfast tomorrow morning,” Jonny said, speech getting slurry and softer, falling deeper and deeper asleep.


End file.
